Automatic Numbers

It happened again.

I looked down at the page in my little black notebook and barely recognized my own handwriting. My writing was normally small and tight, but this was scrawling and messy.

It had only happened once before. I was writing in my journal, recording the events of the day and how I felt about it all, when I, for lack of a better term, blacked out. When I came to, the page was filled with words I didn’t remember writing. Words that I couldn’t decipher.

This time was different, though. This time, the page was filled with numbers. Repeating numbers. The same sequence of six numbers: 4, 15, 18, 31, 36, 47. Over and over and over again.

Automatic writing was not something I’d ever planned on doing. Sure, I read tarot cards and occasionally dabbled in alchemy. But automatic writing just felt so…occult. Yet here I was, staring at a page I had written but had no memory of.

What could the numbers mean? Six numbers, repeated across three pages. I was born on the 31st, so that made sense. But the rest? No clue.

I pulled out my phone and searched for the numbers. Nothing seemed relevant in the search results.

Then it hit me: lottery numbers. I hadn’t played the lottery since I was in college. But if I remembered right, that was a six number sequence. I mean, if that wasn’t it, then I’d only be out a couple of dollars. And if it was? I’d kick myself if I saw the numbers the next day and hadn’t bought a ticket.

An hour later I was back in my living room, lottery ticket in hand, notebook by my side. The drawing wasn’t until 8 pm, which meant I still had an hour to kill. I grabbed a book and settled down to read.

At five minutes to eight, I turned the TV on to the end of the local news. I drummed my fingers on the arm of the sofa while I waited, trying to quell my nerves. It wasn’t working.

Finally, the lottery logo flashed on the screen. I pulled my ticket out, even though I’d memorized the numbers. I hadn’t watched the numbers being drawn in years, and I was surprised they still used the old ping pong ball method, with the balls bouncing around in a giant tank, fighting for their chance for a moment in the spotlight.

The first number: 18.

That was one down. But totally possible it was just a coincidence.

Second number: 4.

Two down. My mind started to wander, thinking of what I might do with the winnings. I glanced down at my ticket, realizing I hadn’t even thought about how much the jackpot was. Forty-seven million dollars. After taxes, that was enough to pay off my student loans and I might even have enough left over for a latte or two.

Third number — almost missed it in my daydreaming: 31.

I was pretty sure even with just three numbers I’d win something. Maybe $50 or $100? I wasn’t sure. Still, it was more than I currently had.

Fourth number: 13.

Damn. So much for the jackpot. But still, $50 or $100 was better than nothing. And besides, what would I do with all of that money if I’d won the jackpot? Other than pay off my student loans and maybe buy a house and a car that wasn’t constantly threatening to leave my stranded on the side of the road.

Fifth number: 36.

Back in the game. The jackpot might not be an option anymore, but four numbers had to be a pretty significant prize.

Sixth number: 47.

Woah! That was five out of six numbers. I grabbed the lottery ticket and looked on the back. That was a $30,000 prize. Subtract a third or so for taxes and I was sitting on a piece of paper worth $20,000.

It wasn’t enough to pay off my student loans, but it was definitely enough to get a car that wouldn’t leave me stranded and maybe take a vacation.

I opened my little black notebook and looked at the page covered in numbers. I had no idea where they’d come from. Was it something in my own subconscious? Was it a message from a higher power? I had no way to explain it. And all I could wonder was if anything like that would ever happen again.

I picked up my pen and considered what I might write about the day’s events. After a couple of false starts, I finally figured out what to put at the bottom of the page.

“Thank you.”